Past Imperfect, Part I
by GM Grantham
Summary: Story 2 of the Moving On Series. Captured by a sadistic alien race, the Enterprise crew is forced to relive their most painful memories for their entertainment. The crew fights together to escape their prison and their agonizing pasts.
1. One

As Casterian protocol dictated, Jim bowed at the waist, avoiding eye contact with the Queen. His gaze flickered to Spock, Uhura and Sulu beside him, doing the same but bowed lower, also as Casterian protocol dictated.

"Your presence has been most stimulating, Captain," the Queen purred. "Are you certain you won't join me in my bed tonight?"

Jim cleared his throat, fighting back at grin at the flare of jealousy that reached him through the bond. "I'm flattered, your Majesty, but I'm in a serious relationship and Humans don't traditionally have relations with other people in those situations."

"Rise, Kirk," the Queen ordered. "You may look upon me." Swallowing roughly, he straightened and met her gaze. "I have angered your mates."

His eyes widened slightly as he realized that Casterians were telepathic-another detail they'd failed to mention in the information that had been sent to Enterprise amongst their protocol journals.

He nodded, unnecessarily adding, "Yes."

The Queen tilted her head inquisitively. "The information you sent indicated Humans are monogamous. Why, then, do you have two mates?"

Jim flushed. "With respect, your Majesty, it's a long story."

"You can show me," she whispered. "If you wish. I mean no harm, Captain. I am merely curious. You have more than one mate and yet you are equally committed to both."

Pausing only a moment, Jim stepped forward, bringing the thoughts he wanted her to see to the forefront of his mind, like he'd practiced a couple dozen times in meditation with Spock. He used his eidetic memory to weave together a brief tale of what he and his partners had endured-what he'd endured. Her probing was gentle and shallow, taking only the thoughts that he offered, reaching no further.

"The female," she murmured. "She carries your children." Her eyes widened. "They are yours and the other male's. How-?"

He showed her the memories he could bear of their incarceration and how Kogav had used them as lab rats, manipulating his and Spock's DNA, manipulating the genetics so that the zygotes were just Human enough to survive and impregnating Nyota with the results. When the Queen broke the connection, Jim heard a sharp gasp and turned to find Sulu staring at him eyes wide, his jaw slack with disbelief.

"Captain-Jim, I-"

Jim grimaced. "I'm sorry, Sulu. I didn't mean for you to find out this way. We were going to tell everyone tomorrow."

A slow smile slid across the young Lieutenant's face. "I always said it was going to take both Spock AND Uhura to keep you in line. As far as-well- congrats, sir."

"Thanks, Sulu," Jim returned with a grin. "Though I'd appreciate it if you kept this under wraps until the staff meeting tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir," Sulu agreed.

# # #/p

He studied Scotty and Chekov's expressions, anxious for them to say or do something. He, Spock and Nyota had just told the entire story from their bonding to finding out Nyota was pregnant. Relief flooded through him when both men laughed and rose instantly, Scott slapping Jim enthusiastically on the back while Chekov began conversing with Nyota in rapid Russian, laying a hand on her protruding abdomen.

Chekov's gaze locked with his. "Do you know ze genders yet?"

Jim grinned. "A boy and a girl."

"Well, done, lad!" Scott boomed. "This calls for a celebration! Mess Hall 1730 hours! I'll bring my best brew! I won't take no for an answer, so don't even try getting out of it."

Jim chuckled. "I wouldn't dream it, Scotty."

# # #

It had been a rambunctious night. Since Nyota couldn't drink anyway, she'd agreed to be what would have been termed in Earth's 21st century as the "designated driver". As no driving was involved aboard a starship to get back to their quarters, her duties were mostly seeing that a drunk-beyond-reason Jim and an indulgent Spock made it out of the whole situation unscathed and having not pulled some stupid stunt like streaking the corridors of the ship naked as the day they were born. God knows Jim had come close and Spock, who had indulged in a dark chocolate liquor, had been in no fit state to talk him out of it.

Nyota shook her head indulgently as she watched her boys sleeping off the night of alcoholic debauchery, pressing a hypo into the side of first Spock's neck and then Jim's to counter the effects of the alcohol, which had a bonus side effect of preventing hangovers. Jim stirred, his eyes opening at the sting.

"What was that?" he asked in a slurred whisper.

"Hangover cure."

Jim nodded. "Thanks." He scooted back into Spock, making room for her to lay in front of him.

She shrugged out of her uniform. "We're not going to be able to work it this way for much longer. My belly already hangs off the edge of the bed."

Jim frowned. "I can sleep on the pull out if you need me to."

"No," she sighed. "If it comes down to it, I'll take the pullout. I'm going to miss cuddling with both you and Spock, but it's only delaying the inevitable. Like it or not, I've got at least another five months to go and I'm not going to get smaller anytime soon."

"Five months?" he murmured, doing the math.

She shrugged. "Spock's guessing. Vulcan pregnancies are typically 10 months, so I guess he figures it's a similar process. And based on his mother's pregnancy…"

Jim shook his head. "Let's not worry about it tonight. It's going to be what it's going to be. Now-" He patted the mattress in front of him. "Get your ass in this bed so I can grope you in your sleep."

Grinning, she replied smartly, "Yes, sir." She then climbed into bed, laying her hands over his as his arms encircled her waist, his face buried in her hair.


	2. Two

Jim's eyes snapped open as the sound of echoing footsteps reached his ears. Disoriented, he studied his surroundings. After a few moments, everything came rushing back and he sighed in frustration. It was just a dream of a night weeks ago before their capture. The change of pace was nice, though.

After long days of relieving every horrible thing that had ever happened to him, he welcomed the simplicity of a night of drinking with friends, hangover or not. A lump formed in his throat as he thought of his bondmates, separated from him by walls. His only comfort was their minds brushing against his through the bond. It was the only thing that told him they were still alive. He refused to allow his thoughts to stray to the reason they were here. Guilt over his part in their current predicament wouldn't help them escape.

Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed and drew nearer. His heart picking up a little with each successive step. The reaction was instinctive by now. Those footsteps always meant one thing. That it was his turn again. He grimaced as he wondered which torturous memory they'd make him re-live today. No doubt it would be Tarsus. It was their favorite, after all. The makings of a great story-love, loss, action, drama, pain, fear and anger causing him to revolt against his captors.

His lips tightened as the image of a haughty Governor Kodos settled in front of his mind's eye. Jim hated himself everyday for what he'd had to do to survive. He'd been Kodos' chosen prodigy, already engaged at the tender age of 13 to marry the governor's daughter, Lenore, to secure the Governor's legacy. Over 4,000 dead with Jim bearing his own burdens over his part in the massacre. He'd saved as many of the children as he'd been able, risking his life to convince Kodos that they would be valuable contributors to the cause.

He shut out the memories, shaking them from his mind. He would be re-living them soon enough. No need to start before he had to. Sighing, he wondered what his bondmates would think of this part of himself that he'd kept hidden from them. He'd never told anyone, least of all Bones. Chris had guessed a lot of it from the official reports, but hadn't made Jim talk about the details.

A chill crept up his spine and he shuddered. No doubt they'd want the bond broken right away and would avoid him at all costs. Hell, they might even transfer off Enterprise. They could never know. There were too many possibilities, all of which led to him ending up hurt, alone and wanting to die.

Jim grinned wryly. It wouldn't be the first time. When he'd first been brought back to Earth after what had happened on Tarsus, he'd been hospitalized several times for attempted suicide. He traced the scars on his wrists with his finger tips. If his mother had gotten home even a minute later-

He'd only just managed to pass the psychological portion of entrance into the Command program and had only done so by giving them the answers they wanted to hear in a tone and manner so convincing that they wouldn't doubt him. Lying had been essential to his survival on Tarsus and as such, he'd gotten very, very good at it.

The addition of a little hacking the night before boarding that shuttle in Riverside had wiped all traces of his multiple suicide attempts from public record as well as his medical records. The hospitals would have found that they had no records of a James Tiberius Kirk ever having been treated at their location.

After the amazing last few months with Spock and Nyota, he'd almost been able to forget and put what he'd endured on Tarsus IV behind him. Though if his current living arrangements were any indication, Fate had other plans for him. He supposed forgetting wasn't on the agenda and that being forced to relive the pain again was Fate's way of keeping him from letting it go. Happiness, it seemed, wasn't in the cards for Jim Kirk. He could be teased with it, yes, but could never actually achieve it because what would be the fun in that?

The doors to his cell opened and he stiffened, prepared to be tasered and dragged to his fate. He was caught off guard when first Spock and then Nyota were shoved into his cell, the doors clanging shut behind them. Both struggled to sit up, Nyota having more difficulty. Jim dropped immediately to her side, helping her until she leaned back against the door panting.

"Are you all right?" he breathed.

She nodded. "And the babies, too. Seems like they have some morals. From what I can understand, I'm off their list of memory donors until the twins are born."

Jim scowled. "You shouldn't have been on the list in the first place. None of us should have."

When he turned to study Spock, he felt a swell of anger at the green and yellow bruises marring his love's face. Brushing his lips gently over each, he ended his thorough healing by devouring Spock's mouth in a fierce kiss, pouring into it all of the longing and loneliness he'd felt in their absence.

"I've missed you," he whispered, turning to kiss Nyota tenderly. "Both of you."

Spock tensed under his touch and Jim saw a brief flash of Amanda's face. A lump formed in his throat as he realized what memory of Spock's their captors were focusing on. Of course. It was one of the most painful memories of the young Vulcan's life, as evidenced by his reaction to Jim's accusations on the bridge mere hours after it had happened. Through the bond, he could feel just how raw that particular wound still was.

"Spock," he choked. "Oh, God, honey. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean a word of it. You have to know I only said those things-"

"To assume command," Spock murmured. "And to make the choices that I myself could not. It's all right. I understand, Jim."

Jim shook his head. "It's not all right. I hurt you so much and I can never apologize enough for that."

Fingers brushed against Jim's and he sucked in a sharp breath as he saw himself behind a wall of glass. He was seeing and feeling his death through Spock's eyes. Feelings of agony, despair, hopelessness, loneliness, emptiness, anxiety, desire and desperation crashed into him through the bond.

"You felt all that?" he rasped.

Swallowing roughly, Spock inclined his head and Jim felt his throat tighten at the tears he saw forming in the half-Vulcan's eyes. "Yes, my Jim. All of it. I wanted nothing more than to die with you."

The confession sent the tears Jim himself was fighting back cascading down his cheeks. "No, honey. Promise me that if something happens to me, you won't ever-Nyota needs you. The babies need you. Promise me."

Spock nodded stiffly. "I promise, my Jim."

They came for him a few hours later. He grimaced. Fate really was a bitch.


	3. Three

Only once he was drained of every bit of hope he possessed was he returned to his cell with a meager serving of slop, stale bread and dirty water serving as his reward for the evening's entertainment. He shook violently, tensing when his exhausted body made contact with the floor, feeling worse than a cheap whore battered nearly to death for his trouble.

A gentle touch on his arm made him jerk away, his gaze meeting Spock's. What his lover saw was apparently so emotionally disturbing that it translated to him through the bond. The emptiness in his own eyes made him suddenly desperately nauseous and he crawled shakily toward the pot in the corner and dry heaved until every muscle in his body was on fire.

This time, he flinched, but accepted the touch gratefully as two pairs of hands steadied him, guiding him to the sad excuse for a mattress in the corner of the cell. It reminded him of that night in the cave and a small smile turned up the corners of his lips as warmth penetrated his skin. He sought their minds through the bond, desperate to forget what he'd just spent the last two hours remembering. He welcomed the respite, even if it was only for a few hours, with open arms.

He awoke an hour later, not even aware that he had fallen asleep, gasping for breath, his heart racing as he assessed his surroundings. His gaze fell on his bondmates beside him, this image solidifying that it had only been a nightmare. Wearing a concerned expression, Spock laid a hand on Jim's shoulder, which Jim pushed away, shaking his head.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "Just a bad dream."

Nyota frowned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Jim tensed and shook his head. "No."

He didn't need to talk about it for them to know. His mind wasn't protected in sleep, the barriers stripped away, allowing his bondmates to see every memory in vivid, shocking detail. Fearing their reaction, he stood and strode toward the opposite wall, sliding down it while drawing his knees up against his chest, his face buried in his knees. He couldn't stifle the sharp sob that tore from his throat.

"Jim," Spock murmured. "We wish to assist you, but we can't do that if you won't allow us."

Jim sucked in a sharp breath. "They died because of me," he rasped. "Because I was too afraid to do what I knew I had to. If I'd killed Kodos sooner-"

Nyota murmured, "When you died to save us," She swallowed roughly. "I was fully committed to resigning my commission. If Spock hadn't talked me out of it-So I know what it's like to torture myself with what ifs. It won't change anything and will only make it worse. Please. Talk to us. Let us help you."

Jim swallowed roughly and clenched his hands in his hair. "They starved us first to make sure we were desperate enough to do anything for food," he whispered. "Then they'd pair us off and we'd fight to the death in order to eat. It was their way of weeding out the weak ones. The ones that refused to fight-like me-they'd pump us so full of drugs that we didn't know who and where we were.

"They'd make us think we were fighting animals instead of people just so we'd do what they wanted. There were a few beyond that, the ones like me who did the best on the aptitude tests, that served as Kodos' personal guard." He swallowed roughly. "By the end of my first month as a member of his guard, I was engaged to a girl I barely knew-Kodos' daughter. He'd chosen me to succeed him."

He shuddered. "He told me I was brilliant and had so much potential. I was one of the lucky ones. The others struggled everyday for enough food to eat. When he started letting the boys take advantage of the girls-that was it. I snapped. I planned it for weeks until one night I stood over the bastard's bed and plunged a knife into his cold, unfeeling heart." Tears broke free. "But the worst part is how much pleasure I took in watching him die."

Jim lowered his mental shields, expecting a barrage of hatred and disgust, only to be surprised by love, compassion and horror at what he'd gone through. It was as though a giant weight was lifted from his shoulders. Again, he wondered what he'd done so right to deserve his bondmates.

"Even the best of us are prone to hatred," Nyota murmured.

Spock inclined his head. "After all, we are all only-if you'll pardon the expression-Human. My ancestors serve as a primary example how a single emotion can tear apart an entire civilization."

"I really don't deserve you," he murmured. "Either of you. You deserve better than a broken man."

"You may be broken," Nyota murmured. "But you're the most courageous, most compassionate broken man I've ever met. We love you. How many times do we have to say it before you realize that we're not going anywhere? You're our partner, broken pieces and all. We want you-we need you in our lives. We're never going to leave you."

Jim was the first to hear the footsteps. Hugging his bondmates tightly, he murmured. "No matter what happens, we use our bond to anchor each other. Agreed?"

The other two nodded. The door to the cell opened and the guard's gaze studied the trio before landing on Spock. A smirk slid across the man's lips as he advanced toward him. For the first time in the course of his and Spock's friendship, he saw true fear in the half-Vulcan's eyes. He swallowed roughly and stood stepping between Spock and the guard.

"Take me."

The guard's smirk became a leer as his hand tightened around his arm. Spock opened his mouth to protest, but Jim shook his head.

"Don't," he warned. "Remember. We stick together."

Sulu exited even as he was being shoved inside. Jim was surprised, with the shell-shocked expression on the young helmsman's face, that he recognized him.

"Captain?" he whispered breathlessly. "I-Spock usually goes after me."

Jim offered a curt nod. "I know. I took his place." He paused. "We have to stick together, Sulu. Tell any of the others you see."

A slight smile turned up the corners of Sulu's lips. "Aye, sir."


	4. Four

It felt different this time. Though the ordeal had weakened him emotionally and psychologically, he felt stronger for it. The support of his bondmates, whispering tender reassurances in the back of his mind even as the chaos ensued around him, kept him grounded.

_It's only a memory,_ he had repeated to himself. _It can't hurt me anymore. It's only a memory. It's not real._

It may have been real at one time, but it couldn't touch him here. He wasn't a kid anymore. He was stronger now and he wasn't alone anymore. Somehow, that knowledge had kept him from breaking as his most horrifying flashbacks of Tarsus were played before him. The ones of Frank's constant beatings and violations didn't faze him. He didn't so much as flinch.

Triumph swelled in his chest, even as the guards tossed him to the floor of the cell, clearly unhappy with his lack of response to what should have been his worst nightmares. The ghost of his once-fiancée that had haunted him most of his adult life faded away. He could have laughed with the freedom of it. Two pairs of arms tightened around him as tears slid down his face.

"I'm most deeply grieved, my Jim," Spock rasped. "I should not have allowed you to take my place."

Jim shook his head. "I knew what they were going to force you to watch, Spock. Your emotions are more potent than mine and your worst memories are more recent. It was logical."

Spock swallowed roughly. "You speak of my mother's death?" Jim nodded and Spock released a heavy breath. "Then you don't know."

Frowning, Jim asked, "If not that, then what?"

"Your death," Spock admitted. "While my mother's loss affected me greatly, watching you sacrifice yourself for the sake of the ship and the crew-that, my Jim, is the moment that I realized that I loved you." Brushing his lips against Jim's, a slight smile turned up the corners of his lips. "And it's selfless sacrifices such as the one you made today that cause my love for you to grow infinitesimally with each moment I am blessed to have you as my bondmate."

Jim grabbed Spock's face in his hands, devouring his mouth in a fervent kiss, pouring every ounce of love and desire into it. "Love you, too, Spock. God, love you both so much."

The three weren't bothered in the least by the hard mattress as they made love together in a tangle of limbs, their minds twined together in ecstasy, not sure where they began and ended.

# # #

When they brought Hikaru back, he feared his love had finally given up. He shuddered when their eyes met. There was a blank look in them like he didn't know where or who he was. His throat tightened as Hikaru stumbled inside, the guard slamming the cell door closed, laughing behind him. As he stood to hold him, Hikaru collapsed into his arms, agonizing sobs wracking his weakened body.

"Shh, mil'yi," Chekov murmured, stroking his hands through the older man's dark strands. "I'm here. It is only a memory. It cannot harm you anymore."

As the sobs subsided, Hikaru's grip on his shoulders relaxed. "I saw the Captain," Hikaru rasped.

The younger man's eyes widened. "How was he?"

Hikaru tensed slightly. "Worse than the others I've seen. And the look in his eyes when they took him in-" He shuddered. "I think he's seen far worse than all of us combined. I've never seen him look so broken and so lost-not even after Admiral Pike died. You remember what he was like."

Chekov nodded. "I always had this feeling when I looked at him during a battle, like he was somewhere else."

"He's right about one thing," Hikaru murmured. "We have to stick together and we have to tell the others to do the same."

# # #

When they came for Spock again, he stepped between them; but they shoved him aside. Apparently, he wasn't entertaining to them anymore now that he'd conquered his fears. He kicked and swung blindly even as they dragged Spock from the cell, resignation filling the half-Vulcan's dark eyes. He felt his lover's fear like it was his own, despite Spock's attempts to block the bond.

"No!" he screamed. "Leave him alone! Take me instead! Please! Take me instead!"

The guards ignored his pleas, only releasing him when the last of them were outside the cell. His knuckles throbbed mercilessly from the harsh contact they'd made with one of the guard's noses. He clung to Nyota tightly, struggling to keep his own wild emotions under control as he focused every ounce of his being on transferring love and calm and comfort to Spock through the bond. Nyota's thoughts twined with his, amplifying the feelings that he was projecting to Spock.

_We're here, honey,_ he thought. _Don't be afraid. We're here._

# # #

"Leo?"

His lips tightened and he shook his head. "No, Chris, I don't want to talk about it."

Soft, moist lips brushed against his temple and he closed his eyes, clinging tightly to the brief surge of happiness they ignited.

"Whatever it was, it can't hurt you now, darling," she murmured. "We can't let them win. Remember what Pavel told you earlier-we have to stick together."

A slight smile turned up the corners of McCoy's lips. "Sounds like something Jim would say."

Christine froze. "Do you think he's talked to the Captain?"

"I wouldn't doubt it," McCoy murmured. "I wonder how the kid's dealing with all of this. Hell, his worst nightmares make mine look like child's play."

"Tarsus," she agreed. "God, what a horrible thing to relive. I can't even begin to imagine what he's been through."

McCoy grimaced. "You don't have to. It's public record."

"Still," she sighed. "An objective transcript from a de-briefing can't compare to the memories themselves."

With a stiff nod, McCoy muttered. "We have to get out of this hellhole. I hope to God the kid has a plan."


	5. Five

Jim's gaze snapped to the cell door the second he heard it opening. Moments later, the guards heaved a shaking Spock inside and they slammed the door closed even as he struggled to a sitting position. Twin grins of satisfaction blossomed on their faces as they moved down the corridor. He rushed to his partner's side, dropping to his knees beside him and enveloping him in a tight hug.

_I'm here, Spock_, he whispered. _I'm here, honey. Right here._

The tips of Spock's fingers brushed over the psi points on his face and he was overwhelmed with relief and love.

_That's right, honey. I'm right here._

Spock's gaze locked with his and a slight smile turned up the corners of his lips. _My Jim, I never doubted it for a moment._

Their lips met in a heady combination of desire and tenderness. The kiss went on for several long moments until Jim pulled back to catch his breath, his forehead leaned against Spock's even as his hand gripped the back of the man's neck to hold him there.

"We have to get out of this hellhole," he sighed. "We need a plan."

Scotty held her tightly to him as she cried. Not knowing what she'd been through, he hadn't the slightest clue how to help her. The only word he'd gotten out of her since they'd brought her back was the Captain's name repeated over and over. He could only presume that whatever was haunting her now had something to do with Jim. It could easily be the young Captain's death, but he got the feeling it ran far deeper than that.

"Shh, love," he murmured. "You're all right. They're only memories. They cannae hurt you here."

God knew he couldn't stand to see a woman cry, much less with him powerless to comfort her in the way he was certain she wanted him to. Her touch bordered on sexual harassment and the way her eyes kept falling to his lips-it didn't take a genius to figure out that she wanted sex. He just wasn't the sort to take advantage of a lady in distress, no matter how attracted he might be to her.

She swallowed roughly and nodded. "And we have to stick together. I know."

"It's going to be all right, lass. We'll get out of this hellhole. I'm sure the Captain has a plan."

Jim sighed. "I've got nothing. Any ideas?"

"I believe if we observe the guards' routines closely enough," Spock began. "We may be able to take advantage of their weaknesses."

Pausing, Jim nodded. "Yeah, that might work. But where do we go from there? We'll need the entire crew in on this if we're going to pull off a breakout of this magnitude."

Spock arched an eyebrow. "Not necessarily. I have noted that the guards wear masks for protection when entering hazardous areas. They have them on their person at all times should this be deemed necessary. I believe if we give the guards reason to enter our cell, I would be able to render the guards unconscious, don the clothing and mask and in doing so, move freely to release the rest of the crew from their imprisonment."

"We're going to need to time this just right," Jim murmured.

For the next several days, Spock served as an observer, conveying as much information as possible each time he was taken from the cell for his session. He even managed to share their escape plan to several of the others, careful to use the two layer code every cadet was required to learn at the Academy.

He returned from this particular session, scarcely fazed by the images that had been presented to him, hoping that the false emotion he projected would fool the guards. Once the doors to the cell had closed, he revealed this latest discovery to his bondmates.

"My recollections of events prior to our abduction have begun to return," Spock offered. "I believe our captors to be none other than our Casterian hosts."

Jim's brow furrowed. "That just doesn't make sense. If they knew we were bonded, they wouldn't have put us in the same cell."

"Logic indicates otherwise," Spock explained. "Were we to witness one another's reactions to our worst memories, it might in turn create new negative memories on which they could feed. I believe them to be similar to the succubuses of legend on Earth, instead feeding on the negative emotions of their prey. The stronger the negative emotions, the more pleasure they obtain from feeding. This would easily explain why when you conquered your fears, they no longer found you desirable as a source of sustenance. In essence, they find your positive emotions distasteful."

It was at that moment that a blaring alarm similar to Enterprise's red alert, though infinitely more irritating, echoed through the tunnels forcing Jim, Nyota and Spock to cover their ears.

"What in the hell is that?" Jim shouted over the noise.

Spock shook his head. "I don't know. But logically, it would be a warning that prisoners are escaping as we haven't heard it before this moment."

At that precise moment, a man dressed in civilian clothing blazed by carrying a weapon, occasionally looking over his shoulder. Spock moved toward the bars of the cell, studying the attempt. He counted to himself until the guards hurried past, calculating their approximate response time to the prisoner's escape. A struggle ensued until a single energy burst brought silence. Not several moments later, the guards dragged the unconscious prisoner presumably back to his cell.

Spock arched an eyebrow. "It took the guards approximately 10.42 minutes to capture and subdue the prisoner."

Jim nodded. "Good. That gives us an idea of how long we have. Do you think if we split up, we could double our chances?"

"Logically," Spock agreed. "It could improve the likelihood that one, if not both of us, will be able to successfully free the remainder of the crew, yes. However, the challenge of overpowering the guards remains."

"We're going to need weapons of some sort," Jim murmured. "That ought to even the odds. It's reasonable to assume that all of the guards carry them to deal with uncooperative prisoners."

"Then we should be able to remove the guards' weapons for our use in addition to their clothing and masks."

Nyota shook her head. "No way am I letting you two do this on your own. I'm going with you."

"You're not really in any condition to be fighting by yourself," Jim frowned. "There's too good of a chance that you'll get hurt." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off, his lips forming a thin line. "I'm not arguing, Nyota. I said no and I meant it. I won't let you put yourself or the babies at risk."

She scowled. "So what am I supposed to do? Sit here and knit?"

"Are you kidding?" Jim scoffed. "You think I'd leave you in this hellhole? You go with Spock. You can even have a weapon."

"Gee, thanks," she bit out sarcastically.


	6. Six

Patience had never really been Jim's strong suit and now here he was forced to wait for just the right moment to initiate phase one of their plan. His heart raced as he listened for the sound of footsteps that would indicate guards approaching. Despite his role in phase one, he was tense and nervous. If a single thing went wrong, one or more of them could be seriously injured or killed.

_They're coming!_ Nyota hissed.

He nodded to Spock who closed his eyes and decreased his respiration. If Jim hadn't known any better, he would have sworn that Spock was seriously ill and maybe even dying. He shuddered. Just the thought was enough to turn his stomach.

"Help! Somebody!" Nyota shouted in a panicked voice. "Please somebody help!"

As expected, the guards stopped outside their cell and peered inside for a moment before the largest of the two asked, "What?"

"Please," she choked. "You have to help him. He-we can't wake him. Please, help him."

Shrugging, the guards stepped inside to examine Spock. The smaller of the two leaned close, his gaze narrowing.

"His heart still beats," the guard observed.

Jim and Nyota feigned relief. "It must be a healing trance," Jim supplied helpfully. "Vulcans use them to repair injuries and illnesses."

The guard's interest piqued at this bit of information. "Our healers should evaluate him. Perhaps there is something that we can do to speed the process."

As the guard reached out to touch him, Jim grabbed his hand. "Don't! If you disrupt the trance, it could cause brain damage!"

"Remove your hand," the guard growled.

Jim's lips tightened. "Don't you get it?! You could kill him!"

The guard's hand flew to the weapon holstered at his side. "Remove your hand or you'll both die. I'm sure the woman, once she has given birth, will make a suitable concubine."

A possessive growl rumbled in Jim's chest as he narrowed his eyes at the man, preparing for a fight.

"Let him go, Jim," Nyota murmured.

_The babies need a father._

Jim grimaced and released the guard's hand. In a moment, the guard's hand grasped Spock's shoulder and his eyes widened in surprise. Before the guard could react, he was unconscious at Spock's feet while the other two guards lay unconscious at Jim's feet.

"We must move quickly," Spock urged. "They will only remain unconscious for approximately 45.14 minutes as our imprisonment has weakened my controls."

The trio donned the robes and masks taken from the guards and took their weapons as well.

"So we've got 45 minutes assuming we don't run into any other guards. Ready?" Jim asked. Spock and Nyota nodded. "Good. Let's get moving." They checked the corridor in both directions before exiting the cell, headed toward the central hub of the underground prison.

# # #

Christine lay asleep in his arms, exhausted from their lovemaking session, a thin blanket their only protection from prying eyes should the guards come by with their dinner. McCoy stroked his hands through her blond hair, too wired to sleep. His thoughts were too focused on his colleagues. Not all of them had the comfort of a lover to chase away the nightmares.

Mostly, he was worried about Jim. He knew at least some of the load that the kid carried. In the last five months alone, his friend had been forced to relive past hurts at least twice, if not three times. This being the fourth, McCoy wasn't so sure that it wouldn't break him.

He didn't become aware of the footsteps until they were practically right outside of their cell. Giving the front guard a hard stare, his grip on Christine tightened as the guard slid the key into the lock and turned it. In that moment, he decided that he was going to fight back. The moment the door opened, he leapt at the bastard and pinned him to the ground, raising one fist to strike while his free hand stripped away the man's mask, sucking in a sharp breath when Jim's brilliant blue eyes stared back at him.

A grin sliding across his face, Jim teased, "Good to see you, too, Bones."

McCoy struggled to stand, pulling Jim upright. "Shit," he rasped. "I was gonna-"

"Damned lucky you didn't," the younger man joked, tossing McCoy his clothes. "I'd hate to mess up that pretty face of yours."

McCoy snorted. "How the hell did you manage this one anyway?"

Jim smirked. "A Vulcan healing trance, a few Vulcan nerve pinches and perfect timing."

"We should make haste," Spock murmured. "We only have 30.24 minutes until the guards regain consciousness and much of the crew remains imprisoned."

# # #

Another several minutes and several more freed crew members later, Jim realized that the size of the group would attract attention.

"Okay," he whispered. "This is where we split up. Spock, Nyota. You take everybody we've broken out so far and head for safety. I'll work out a way to free everyone else."

Spock arched an eyebrow. "I must object to this course of action. It is not only illogical, it carries a high risk that you will be captured in your attempt to assist other crew."

"Your objection is noted. Now move," Jim ground out.

Hesitantly, Spock urged Nyota and the rest of the group down one tunnel while Jim went down the other, blocking his thoughts and emotions from his bondmates. There was a good chance he'd be caught and he didn't want them knowing it right away if he was. They'd come to his rescue and that increased the odds that everyone would get killed trying to save him.

As he approached the next row of cells, he was surprised to find Carol Marcus asleep in Scotty's arms. He grinned. _Montgomery, you sly dog._

"Should I leave you two alone?"

Scotty's gaze snapped to him and he gaped. "Captain?"

Chuckling, Jim removed the mask. "Damn. You found me out." His gaze flew to Marcus, whose eyes opened abruptly. "Well, good morning, sleeping beauty. Have a good nap?"

Marcus snorted. "Why? Jealous?"

"Not one bit," he deadpanned. "No offense, Mr. Scott. You're a handsome man, but you're not quite my type." Both men laughed when Marcus's eyes narrowed playfully. "As much as I'm enjoying the banter, we don't have a lot of time and there are still quite a few crewmembers to break out."


	7. Seven

By his calculations, at least ninety five percent of the crew were now on their way out of this horrible prison. Their best chance to survive was to find _Enterprise_. If anyone could manage that, it would be Spock. With only a few minutes left until those guards regained consciousness, he had to work quickly. He refused to leave behind so much as a single crewmember.

Making his way down what he hoped was the final grouping of cells holding his crew, he came across more familiar faces. What he saw when he peeked into the first cell floored him. Chekov and Sulu sat in a corner wrapped in one another's arms.

"Well, that explains a lot," he blurted.

Both men's gazes snapped in his direction, a flush creeping into their cheeks.

"Eet is good to see you, Keptin," Chekov offered.

A grin slid across Jim's face. "Good to see you, too, Mr. Chekov. Let's get you both out of here." Fumbling with the keyring he'd snatched from one of the currently unconscious guards, he at last managed to fit a key to the lock. He repeated the process for the remaining cells. "That should be everyone. Let's move."

Using the guard's map, he led the group through a series of tunnels toward the nearest exit. His heart raced as they drew closer and closer to freedom. Reasonably, the plan shouldn't have worked. It depended on too many things going right, things that could have easily gone wrong without him realizing it until it was too late. It was at that moment that he heard it for the first time. The same loud alarm that had sounded when the other prisoner had tried to escape. Shit.

"You all go," he urged, shoving the map into Chekov's hands. "Find Spock and get back to _Enterprise_. I'll draw their attention. That's an order!"

Chekov's lips tightened as he replied, "Yes, sir."

The group took the right tunnel while Kirk took the left, pulling the mask over his face once again and pulling the hood over his head. With the exit at the end of the right tunnel, the others stood a good chance of escaping. But they'd all need more time to get to Enterprise. If he could distract the guards long enough, they would make it.

A male voice shouted behind him and Jim struggled to stay calm, remembering that he looked like one of them. However, when the guards increased their pace to a sprint, instinct kicked in and he took off full speed. Making another left, he ran into a group of guards, going back to the right. It wasn't long before he encountered a third set of guards. Cornered, he scanned the group for the weakest link. He took the man down easily, but was immediately contained by several others, darkness enveloping his senses.

# # #

Spock froze and turned back toward the tunnel they'd just exited. Jim's near constant presence in his mind was suddenly gone. It took every ounce of control he possessed not to abandon the others and seek him out. Swallowing roughly, he forced himself to keep walking.

"We must get to the ship," he rasped. "Quickly. It is our only chance."

He pulled out the device he'd taken from one of the unconscious guards, which acted in a similar manner to a tricorder, and scanned the field of ships for Enterprise's unique signature, then following the readings. Several long moments later, they stood before her, thankfully unharmed as of yet. Spock imagined that the Casterians were still studying Enterprise's systems. To untrained and inexperienced personnel, such a study would take weeks if not months.

"All crew to your stations," Spock ordered.

The crowd flooded past as they boarded the ship via the exposed hangar deck. Looking back one last time, Spock followed.

# # #

He grimaced, every inch of his bruised body screaming in protest as he struggled to stand, even against the onslaught of the Casterians's harsh interrogation techniques. A delicate hand tightened around his arm and he gasped at the invasion into his mind. Summoning every last ounce of strength, he focused on the foreign mind and pushed it away.

"Get the hell out of my head!" he ground out.

The Casterian queen studied him with muted shock. "You have a strong mind, Jim Kirk. Surprising, as you broke so easily before."

At the mention of the torture sessions, Jim stiffened. "Never underestimate the Human survival instinct," he murmured breathlessly.

"I assure you, I shall not make that mistake again. I believe," she added with a smirk of satisfaction. "I will keep you as a pet. Surely your past holds more horrors than those we have thus far uncovered. Without your bondmates to console you, breaking through the barriers you have erected around your mind will only be a matter of time."

He swallowed roughly, trying to push the fear that her declaration inspired to the back of his mind. If he was going to die here, then damn it, he was going to die with his dignity intact. He wasn't about to let this vindictive bitch know just how afraid he was. His heart raced as he once again felt the foreign stroke of her mind against his and he focused every ounce of his mental energy on building his mental walls as high and as strong as they would go using a technique Spock had taught him during one of their many meditation sessions.

"You can't resist me forever, Jim Kirk," the Queen sneered. "Eventually, you will break and I will revel in the flood."

For a moment, the fear overwhelmed his control. All it took was the slightest stroke of her evil mind touching his for him to push her away and resurrect the barriers.

"I'll see you in hell first!" he spat.

Her other hand found his throat and tightened its grip incrementally with each moment he refused to yield to her demands. The edges of his vision grew black, and yet, he wasn't afraid to die. He'd made peace with that possibility years ago when he actually had died. It wasn't so bad. Forcing himself not to think of what he was leaving behind, he held tightly to his mental barriers, determined that even in his death, he wouldn't give the Queen any information that might endanger his crew or Earth. His last thought before he lost consciousness was of his mates and their unborn children.

_I'm sorry._


	8. Epilogue

The first thing he heard was the steady beep of a biosigns machine, but he didn't relax until he heard the familiar hum of Enterprise's air recyclers. Slowly, he opened his eyes, a smile sliding across his lips at the sight of Spock hovering over him.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," he murmured.

His bondmate's features softened. "Indeed. How do you feel?"

Jim sighed, massaging his temples. "Other than the throbbing in my head, fine. How long was I out for this time?"

"Less than 24 hours," Spock replied. "Your injuries were mostly superficial. With assistance from a dermal regenerator, the marks are barely visible."

"The last thing I'm worried about is scars," Jim mumbled. "How's the rest of the crew? Did everyone make it out okay?"

Spock nodded. "I conducted a roll call and everyone has been accounted for." He paused. "Given the nature of what the crew has endured, it would be wise for each of them to speak with a trained professional so that they might achieve closure and move past this experience."

"Agreed."

"I am including you in that number, Jim," Spock added, arching an eyebrow.

Jim's lips tightened. "I don't need a shrink, I need to get back to duty."

"Sorry, kid. Not happening anytime soon," came McCoy's voice across the Medbay.

Jim and Spock turned to find him approaching the biobed with a hypo in hand. Before Jim could protest, McCoy was jamming the hypo into the side of Jim's neck and depressing it with a hiss.

"Better?"

"Yeah. Thanks. How's the crew?"

McCoy replied, "No serious injuries, thank God. A few sprains, some bruises. That's about it. Now would you stop trying to get out of bed and rest so you can heal, damn it."

Jim turned to Spock. "Nyota?"

"She's resting," his partner replied. "It took a great deal of convincing, but she conceded to the Doctor's logic."

He grasped his bondmate's hand tightly, smiling as he felt his love wash over him. "I didn't think I'd see either of you again."

Spock's gaze softened. "I feared that our rescue would fail. I'm not certain what would have occurred had it done so."

"You would have carried on for Nyota and the babies," Jim offered.

A slight smile turned up the corner of the half-Vulcan's lips. "Perhaps. But the sudden severing of Nyota and I's bond to you would not have been without its consequences. Many full Vulcans lose their mental capacities over such a loss and pass on from grief. Those who survive the maddening loneliness never truly re-establish control and are forever changed by it. Without you, my Jim, Nyota and I are not complete. No other could ever take your place."


End file.
